“Why are you crying, Mila?” TJ walked into the room, his face grim and twisted as he approached me, his eyes studying my face. “Who hurt you? What happened?”
“No one hurt me,” I said as I looked away from him. How could I tell him that I was crying for myself because of him? Because he made me feel invisible? Because he’d never once looked at me in the way I’d seen him looking at the waitress in the restaurant? How could I tell him that I was crying because for once in my life I wanted to matter? I wanted to be the one someone wanted. I wanted to be the one admired. For all my laughter and plans, I was hurt inside. I was more than hurt. I was broken.
I’d tried to hide the fact that it hurt me that he didn’t care for so many years. I’d lied to myself that I wasn’t hurt and dejected. In my head and heart, I’d known that it would happen. I ignored the fact that he didn’t pursue me. I made all these excuses to myself for the reasons why, when the real reason was in front of me. He just didn’t care about me. Yeah, maybe he wanted to sleep with me, but I wasn’t his one. I wasn’t anything special. And knowing that, knowing that he’d never looked at me with that glint in his eyes that I’d seen when he’d looked at Madeline, killed me. It made me feel weak and empty and alone and there was nothing I could do to fix that feeling. There was nothing I could do to make him love me. There was nothing I could do to make him feel for me the way I felt for him.
I didn’t understand why. I didn’t understand how I could feel all these feelings, love him so much. I didn’t understand why I would want him so much, when to him, I was nothing.
“Tell me why you’re crying, Mila.” He frowned as he sat next to me. “Who do I have to beat up?”
“No one. I’m fine.” I gulped as he sat down on the bed and gingerly touched my shoulder.
“You’re not fine.” He lay down next to me and reached over to my face. “Tell me what’s wrong, Mila. Please.”
“Nothing is wrong.” I kept my eyes down. How did you tell someone that their not loving you had broken you without seeming pathetic?
“Mila.” His voice broke and I looked into his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” I tried to wipe my eyes. My whole being felt embarrassed and awkward.
“It matters to me,” he said softly. “Please Mila, talk to me.”
“You were mean to me tonight,” I said softly, not knowing why I was letting the words out. “I was just waiting on you. And that guy approached me and you were mean.”
“I didn’t intend to be mean,” he said stiffly.
“And then you were flirting with the waitress. I thought you were going to ask her out. It was so disrespectful.” I looked down.
“I didn’t realize I was flirting with her.” He sighed. “Is that why you’re crying?”
“I’m just emotional because I’m getting my period,” I lied. I didn’t want him to know I was devastated.
“I might have been flirting with the waitress because I wanted to make you jealous.” He touched my cheek lightly and I looked over at him and he had a weird look on his face.
“Make me jealous?” I asked him, confused.
“I was looking forward to our dinner all day and then I walk in and see you flirting with some guy.” He shrugged. “It made me upset.”
“We weren’t flirting.”
“He wanted you.”
“He was just being friendly.”
“Guys are only friendly to women they want.” He made a face. “He wanted you.”
“I didn’t want him.”
“I acted irrationally, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I took a huge breath and my heartbeat started to slow down as I calmed down a bit. So maybe he didn’t think the waitress was his soul mate, after all. Though, I still thought it was pretty shitty that he’d been flirting with her right in front of me.
“I’m an asshole.” He leaned away from me and lay flat on his back. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said and lay flat on my back as well. We both just lay there, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t know what to say now. I wanted to ask him what he really thought about me, if he’d ever thought about me in any other way. If he’d ever love me. But I knew that would be pathetic. Just like me. I hated feeling this way. He’d think I was crazy, acting all emotional over nothing.
“Doesn’t it sometimes seem like the world is against you?” TJ finally said, his voice sounding different, less sure of himself.
“Yeah, it does,” I agreed, wondering what he was talking about. “Why do you say that?”
“I just sometimes feel that way,” he said, his voice even lower now. “Everything in my world has always been black and white. Hot or cold. Yes or no. But that’s not always how life works. My life has always been me against the world.”